Have I gone mad?
by Salazar Tarrant H. Slytherin
Summary: Harry gets sent to Azkaban for a crime he didn't commit. Watch as the wizarding world falls into shambles as the once savior refuses to fight for the greater good and is utterly mad! He is the Mad Hatter, one of the ancient myths in the wizarding world. Dark!Harry, Mad!Harry, Possible!Slash, Azkaban!Harry.


**Warning: There is no plot, not really. It's a just go with it story. **

**Slight crossover between Harry Potter/Alice in Wonderland.**

**I do not own anything but the plot!**

**I hope you enjoy, if not. Oh well.**

**There will most likely be grammatical errors. **

**I have no Beta. **

**Chapter one **

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_'Does it depress you Potter? To know how alone you really are?'_  
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**H**arry James Potter, head of the ancient and noble house of Potter, the ex-savior of the wizarding world and the newfound betrayer was sitting deep in the underground dungeons of Azkaban, the wizarding prison. He was deemed highly dangerous and with that said, saddled him with the Dementors, in their home and space.  
Long ago he would've been slumped against the wall, dreaming of the day his parent's had died, his mother's fearful yet pleading screams and Voldemort's high pitched chilly laughter.  
Now though, he changed. The Dementors didn't affect him, not one bit. It was as if they accepted him as their kind, as one of them. It could've very well possibly been that he was certifiably mad. Or that he was indeed innocent of the crimes he had committed, or he just deleted those god awful hopes and dreams and _happy _memories. On the other hand, it could've been that he _ignored _the _unignoriable_, or possibly have a teeny, tiny bit of Dementor blood running through his veins, honestly who would touch, let alone shag one of those _nasty _beings?  
Oh yes, that's right. His great, great, grandmother! He didn't know how and Harry didn't particularly want to know. He shuddered at the thought, though a smile still perched on his lips.  
Harry's skin turned an abnormal pale of white, as white as snow. It might've been because of the lack of sun light that didn't dare seep through the many cracks or it could've came with the rest of his changed look.  
Along with the alabaster skin, his normally messy, raven haired change to an even _messier _brighter shade of orange, even brighter than his mother's own. Harry thought the only thing that did stay were his eyes, though they became wider and lighter, an electric neon green. Most would've thought his eyes would've dulled by now, considering the predicament he was in. But they didn't, they glowed instead, even in the night.  
Harry really didn't know what had happened, but he didn't particularly care, he had grown! He was now standing at 6'5. He was 100% sure; he didn't even miss his old 5'6 height, not one bit.  
The only thing that would've made his stay at hotel Azkaban complete was a delicious cup of tea.  
So there he sat, on the dirty cot, his pale ivory ankle trapped in a shackle, preventing him from both moving and escaping.  
_**'Honestly,' **_He thought with an amused snort. _**'They've got to be half mad to believe I could escape such a place, I'm not Sirius. I haven't an animagus form and have no desire to leave this place and into that pathetic sheep land.' **_Moreover, it was true, Harry did indeed have no desire to leave. It wasn't bad there he had to admit. However, more interaction could've been better.  
He sighed. He still remembered the day they shipped him there. The day he learned whom exactly his true friends were.

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_**Flashback**_

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_**Y**__oung Harry James Potter sat in the only chair that was designated to him, sat is a little far off, they made him. He could feel the magic suppressant that was attached to the chair, the chains that snaked along his body and hugged it tightly just proved it, he had tried fighting it but it proved worthless in the end. They had stunned him and made him.  
His eyes roamed the few faces he knew in the crowd,  
Hermione, his bookworm friend looked completely mad, her normally soft face twisted into a hard sneer, her once warm brown eyes now holding nothing but contempt and disgust for the boy she considered her friend.  
"How could you!" She hissed, as her hand balled into a fist along the black wooden fence that held her back. Harry could say anything, not because he was ashamed or proud of what he had not done, but the fact that he was still silenced. Harry was afraid to look at the Weasleys, the large family he trusted undeniably and adopted them as his family.  
He raised his head just as a human sized cage encircled him, __**'Really?' **__He sighed inwardly, '__**Wasn't the magical suppressors and chains enough? Apparently not.' **__He didn't bother to care after that.  
"Harry James Potter." Uttered a commanding voice, "You have been charged with the following: Underage spell craft, using 3 out of 3 of the unforgivables and the murders of the following: Petunia Dursley (née Evans), muggle. Vernon Avery Dursley, muggle. Dudley Patrick Dursley, muggle. Cedric Amos Diggory, wizard. How do you plead?"  
Harry blinked at the other, his once leafy green eyes stared at the other dully. "Oh yes! That's right." Spoke up the Minister of the wizarding world, Cornelius Fudge. "The spell, remove it." He gestured towards the young chained wizard, whom rolled his eyes. "At once sir."  
The spell that silenced Harry was now removed, though Harry didn't jump at the chance to plead his innocence. He knew this was a farce trial, there wasn't even veritaserum present, nor the people he knew would stand beside him. "I would like to plead not guilty." Harry rasped, shifting in the chair slightly. "But __**that **__wouldn't do much, would it?" Many in the courtroom's volume rose. Most insults, others in disbelief that the wizarding world's savior could be trailed for murder, using all of the unforgivables nonetheless.  
But one comment stood out, that comment was from what he supposed would be his ex-friend Hermione Granger.  
"I can't believe Ron stood with you!"  
That was it. He froze.  
His friend stood with him. Ron refused to believe he was a murderer.  
Hesitantly Harry looked up, his eyes locking on the familiar blue that was his friends. Ron smiled slightly, as to not let his mother see before he nodded. Harry wished he could've hugged him, to say thank you, anything. But he couldn't, he knew he couldn't.  
As the judge banged the gavel against the sound block the shouts soon became murmurs, dying down to hushed whispers.  
The trail then continued for another two hours, many coming and going from the witness stand, most being the people whom hated him, others old friends whom now stood against the young man.  
Finally, after a horrid three hours, the verdict came. He was guilty.  
Four life sentences in Azkaban; the Dementors kiss to merciful they said.  
And so, they stunned him, letting the Dementors drag him out of the court room.  
He never pleaded for them to believe. He knew it was a lost cause.  
_

**†**·**†**

_**End Of Flashback**_

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* * *

Harry didn't remember a ton from the trial but he remembered enough, he knew what people thought of him now. However, eventually, they would find out his innocence and beg him to come back.  
He just had to wait.


End file.
